A losing battle
by Foodwise
Summary: Catherine just can't stay away from Sara. See inside for background of this story. It really is just a one shot...


**CSI:LV, M, Angst/Romance, Catherine Willows/Sara Sidle**

**Disclaimer: CSI, its characters, places, and situations are property of Jerry Bruckheimer Television, Alliance Atlantis and CBS Productions. This story was written for entertainment, not monetary purposes. Original characters, and this story are intellectual property of the author. Any similarities to existing characters, fictional or real, living or dead, are coincidental and no harm is intended.**

**This was written for femslash_today's Fireworks 11 The [Totally Not] Annual Pron Battle over at LJ.  
><strong>

**prompt: CSI, Catherine/Sara, can't stay away**

**Not my usual pairing though I did it once before, but somehow I just had to do that prompt. It spoke to me. Don't laugh! It was fun and practically wrote itself...  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>A losing battle<strong>

It's always the same. Time and time again. She shows up at my doorstep and the moment I allow her in, she's all over me. Like I'm her drug or her cure, a soothing balm to all the injuries she's suffered in the past. Like when she's with me, like this, she's able to breathe freely, to be who she really is. I knew she's passionate, knew she's bossy, knew she likes to be in charge and I let her have it her way. Because she's just so damn good. And despite what I sometimes throw at her during an argument, she knows I might be the only one who doesn't judge her. Because I know exactly how that feels. Because I know how you get to that point. Because I simply get her. And she knows it, too.

But today, something is different, she is different. I open the door wider so she can step past me, but once she's inside, she just stands beside my coat rack, like an immobile statue.

"Cath?" I probe hesitantly, not knowing what to think of this. We never really took it slow, never even spoke much, I don't think I'd even call us friends. I don't even know how we got here. Opposites attract, maybe? That's what we are, opposites with a mutual understanding.

"This can't go on."

She's said that before. In fact, she says it every time she picks her clothes off the floor, dresses in a hurry and leaves without even looking back.

"You already said that." I state dryly.

"I know, but this time, I mean it. I'm just using you." There's a hitch in her voice that makes me suspicious. I raise a brow and scrunch up my face.

"And? So do I. What's wrong about that? We never promised each other anything."

An irritated expression flashes across her face, but she wards it off quickly and her face resumes that annoying, detached look.

"Yeah, we very well never did."

That sounded way too pressed, almost forced.

"And you came all the way here just to tell me that this non-commitment has to end. We're not lovers, a text would have been sufficient enough. Really Cath, what is it?"

She's trembling. I almost scold myself for not having noticed it earlier, or maybe it really just started.

My forehead immediately lies in creases and my hand darts forward, almost without my consent, reaching for her hand but as soon as my fingertips touch her skin she flinches away.

"Don't. Just don't touch me."

I draw back and lift both my hands in the air.

"Okay, hey, no reason to get so jumpy. I'm not going to do anything you don't want."

With these words, her mask falls off and she shoots forward.

"Oh, fuck that, you do, Sara! You might not even notice it, but all you do is do things to me that I don't want. I never wanted to be here. I never wanted this. Yet I came here, again and again, giving in to- whatever you fuckin' did to me. It's like I just can't bring myself to stay away from you! You stand there in your doorframe with that adorable, knowing smile on your face, every time, when I just want to tell you that this is it, this was the last time and I just- give in. How dare you crawl under my skin like that. How dare you do that to me."

"Excuse me?" I can't bridle my own surfacing anger now. "Who got this whole rollercoaster started? Who just went and kissed me? Who just showed up at my door and practically jumped me, Catherine? I'm not saying I wasn't a willing participant because I am, but I never asked for it. I neither asked you to come here nor to stay away. So what exactly is your fucking problem?"

I didn't even realized that I closed the distance between us, or that my hands are grabbing Cath's cheeks, I hear her gasp somewhat belated and only now register her elevated breathing and the way her eyes flicker back and forth between my mouth and my eyes.

Interesting.

She doesn't look at all like she doesn't want this anymore. I press on, backing her into the door, waiting for a reaction.

"I- I-" She stutters and tenses further in my grasp.

"What, Cath? Because you look awfully turned on right now. Not at all like you don't want this. I think by now I know what I'm talking about. Why stop now? Whatever it is, just tell me. I promise, no hard feelings."

She slumps against the door and her hands curl around my wrists.

"I'm scared."

I shake my head, not sure I heard her right.

Catherine Willows, afraid? Scared even? But I don't get a chance to voice my irritation.

"I'm so damn scared of what's happening to me, what you're doing to me. I don't really wanna leave when I come here anymore. I want to stay. I want to stay the night. I want to hold you, to be held. I wanna feel safe, because that's what you do, you make me feel safe. So I have to stay away. Before it will get too hard to go. Before I invest something in this that is doomed to get broken. Please, just let go of me."

"Cath." Now I'm breathless. Of all the things I might have expected her to say, this sure wasn't on the list. Is she just telling me she's falling in love with me?

Next thing I know I'm kissing her. Hard. She's struggling, bodily, but her mouth and tongue tell a different story.

I could go and analyse forever what I'm doing right now. All I know is that if this is really what she wants, to go and not look back, just this one last time I have to have her again, and have her my way, not hers.

Eventually she manages to turn her head away and break the kiss.

"Sara-"

My hand covers her mouth. Not just two fingers to shush her, no, my whole palm to effectively shut her up.

"No. You want to end this? Fine. Don't even bother asking. It's not like you'd probably like the answer. But I won't let you go just yet. I've played by your rules, every single time. And now you'll play by mine. Just one more time, that's all I'm asking for. Just let me have you. Let me-" I don't know how to say it. I really don't. "Just- let me, okay?"

I slowly withdraw my hand from her mouth. She gasps and her eyes are the brightest blue I've ever seen them, though they bear pain and struggle, but also need and if I'm not mistaken a lot of anticipation to find out how it will be the other way round. With me in charge.

All she does is nod.

"Kick off your shoes, Cath."

I like it that she's shorter. She always kept those damn stilettos on until the last moment before we fell into bed. Now this is better.

Now I have to bend down a bit to kiss her. And I do. Just a brush. Another. A nip at her bottom lip. Then I bite it. Her lip quivers and she moans into my mouth, but I swallow the sound and capture her mouth, tilting her head with my hand in her neck to kiss her as deep and devouring as I possibly can.

I never before paid much attention to the details. It was always a rush of clothes flying everywhere, hands grasping what they could reach and a rushed crescendo towards a quick release. A cacophony of frenzied movements and exploring fingers and mouths. Hasty, but satisfying.

But this time I don't miss a thing. I don't miss how her eyes flutter close as our tongues meet or how her whole body arches forward into mine, seeking contact, closeness. I don't miss the blush that creeps up her chest, the swell of her breasts that are just visible at the low neckline of her shirt. I don't miss that her hands are gentler than usual as her arms encircle my waist and she pushes under the hem of my shirt and caresses the skin alongside my spine. I don't miss how her breaths become ragged when I dip my head and nibble my way down her throat, the up again to her ear and suck at her neck. This will leave a mark and she knows it, feels it, yet instead of pulling away she presses into the suction, mewling softly and clawing into my back. I leave a trail of soft bites down to her clavicle before I straighten up and just stare at her. Her eyes are still closed and for a second I really agnise just how beautiful she is.

"Cath, bedroom, now."

I think I growled that. I think I don't remember any time in my life where I have wanted someone as bad as I want her right now. She should really have talked to me. She should have just told me.

I take my time undressing her. She shudders with every touch, every kiss, every lick, nip and bite I scatter across her body. She moans and twitches, gasps and yelps.

And every time she tries to reciprocate, to get a hold of me, too, I push her hands away.

When she's left in nothing but her panties, I shove her onto the comforter and motion her to stay there while I get rid of my own clothes. Her eyes though follow my every movement, they virtually drink in every patch of skin revealed and I can't help but feel flattered by the appreciation in her glance.

I see it now. That's not the look of pure want, unbridled, that was written in them all those times before. Her ever darkening blue eyes are still fueled with desire, but they also lighten up with something so much gentler, with a quiet passion that suits her. With lust that isn't all-consuming, but also giving, longing. Almost loving.

I never break the contact as I sink to my knees in front of the bed, lock my arms under her thighs, pull her towards the edge roughly so she falls back and her head hits the cover and in one fell swoop I pull her remaining piece of clothing down her legs. She sharply sucks in some air as I nuzzle my face in her thigh, kissing and licking my way up, alternating between legs while my hands reach up, cup her breasts and tweak and pinch taut nipples. At a particularly hard twist she bucks up and squeals and I delight in the noise and chuckle into her as my mouth seeks contact with her center. She's never been like this. So receptive, so sensual, so uniquely vocal. Ingeniously.

Her legs start shaking uncontrollably when I drive my tongue through her and just quickly scrape my teeth over her clit.

"Sar... Please!" She presses out. I replace my teeth with my lips and hum low and long and elicit a drawn out and helpless moan.

"Yeah?" I murmur, barely loud enough for her to catch it. I think I love it when she begs. Beg me some more, Cath. Beg me.

And she does.

"Please, please, just-" I drive deeper and my tongue circles her opening lightly. "Oh god, please!"

My hand glides down her chest, over muscles jumping in her stomach and still at the junction of her thigh.

And I tease. I keep the contacts short and too soft to cause too much friction, I touch her everywhere I can reach from my position and she squirms and arches, groans and pants, tries to grind into my face, writhes and moans but allows me to do whatever I want. Strings of expletives leave her mouth in between pleas and as she finally stills and huffs in frustration, burying her face in trembling hands, completely on edge, I finally thrust into her.

And she screams.

With every push I drive her further up the bed, and I'm following my forceful motions while still circling, flicking, sucking her clit and my fingers work mercilessly, bending, hitting exactly where I want.

Come, just come for me, Cath.

And she goes rigid, pushes down on me once, twice, three times and I suckle in quick succession and she explodes. I whip my head up, I have to see it. My hand slows, but never stops, her silent cry is mesmerising, the expression on her face between utter salvation and pain almost and she twitches, shakes in abandon.

Her eyes fly open and seek out mine and I know we're fighting a losing battle. Because I know what she sees in mine reflects what I see in hers this very moment. She will never manage to stay away.

Because I don't want her to even try. And I will hold her. I will let her hold me. She will be safe. And nothing will get broken. Not anymore.

* * *

><p><strong>Hints, comments, criticism especially appreciated, since I haven't written something with Cath in it for ages. <strong>

**Thanks for reading!**


End file.
